


Nothing Forgiven, Nothing Forgotten

by dreamerbydawn



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, BAMF Magnus Bane, Canon Typical Racism, Discussion of canon typical racism, High Warlock of Brooklyn Magnus Bane, I cannot believe that's not a tag already, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, The Clave sucks, Warlock Politics (Shadowhunter Chronicles), fluff-stuff-fluff is the format of this fic, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbydawn/pseuds/dreamerbydawn
Summary: Magnus is hosting a dinner to celebrate being reinstated as The High Warlock of Brooklyn, but one innocent question of how he first got that title sends the evening spinning out of control when old arguments between Magnus and Lorenzo resurface.or, a brief exploration of Magnus and Lorenzo's relationship, some warlock politics and a discussion on racism (and how much the Clave sucks)
Relationships: Lorenzo Rey/Andrew Underhill, Magnus Bane & Lorenzo Rey, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 151





	Nothing Forgiven, Nothing Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enkelimagnus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/gifts).



> Thank you for kick starting this little plot bunny (that may or may not have rapidly grown into a very demanding monster)
> 
> Oh also, it's set after the Malec wedding, but Clary is still here cuz FUCK CANON.

Alec lounges in the bed, still very much suspended in their lazy post honeymoon bliss. He’s propped up by a mini mountain of pillows and clad only in his boxers, his shower wet hair forming odd spikes from being halfway towelled dry. The motivation to complete the task seems to have deserted him, along with any other motivations that might have propelled him to move. For now, he’s content to simply watch his husband.

Magnus of course, is preening under the attention, as though Alec hadn’t spent the last three weeks - and really all their time together- with the singular mission of lavishing him with it. He has no shame about being greedy though, because in just under two hours, he would have to share Alexander with the world again, and this personal bubble they had existed in, where everything had narrowed down to just each other, would pop.

Loud, invasive siblings and over enthusiastic friends would claim the attention they were due this evening, and the New York Shadow World would come knocking at their doorstep bright and early tomorrow with it’s never ending list of demands. And, Magnus thinks, most tragically of all, Alec will have to go back to wearing proper clothes.

The thought makes him stop and take a moment to simply stare at the delicious expanse of skin still available for viewing, an almost sad sigh falling from his lips at knowing it will be covered up soon.

“You’re the one in a hurry to get dressed Magnus” Alec practically drawls and Magnus _knows_ that tone. It’s the tone that had them missing four of Magnus’s five attempts at fancy dinner dates, before he’d given up and settled for conjuring the food to them – then again he was hardly going to complain about the truly excellent dessert that came with sharing dinner in their room.

However, that tone was only fine when it was a reservation for two in Venice being traded for luxuriating in their beautiful sea side cottage. It was _not_ okay when they were set to play hosts for a dinner party in their home with their closest friends and family – and Lorenzo.

“Some of us, dear husband, need more than five minutes if we want to walk out the door and look stunning” Magnus points out, picking up his make-up brush and delicately dusting it against his cheeks.

Alec rolls his eyes at the comment, but Magnus can see the happiness shining in them anyway. Neither of them have gotten even remotely used to calling each other husbands despite continuously using the word for the last three weeks.

“You are the very definition of the word stunning” Alec counters easily, before acquiescing “But I do understand that the High Warlock of Brooklyn needs to uphold his standards, so I’ll behave”

Magnus feels a thrill at those words. He hadn’t known how much he had missed Alec calling him that until Lorenzo’s fire message reached them two weeks ago, letting him know he was stepping down, and that the council was reinstating Magnus with a full apology.

Alec had been incredibly smug and endlessly self-satisfied about the whole affair, none of Magnus’s shock reaching him. _‘it’s your city Magnus, it’s always been yours’_ he had said before dismissing the news as a long anticipated event rather than the baffling one that it was.

“Although” Alec begins, drawing Magnus’s attention back to the present “you could wear a trash bag and still look better than that drab suit Lorenzo was peacocking in for his party”

Magnus had to hide an amused smile at that. Alexander had started trash-talking Lorenzo the very day he had been announced as the High Warlock and despite Edom, despite Lorenzo having gone to the spiral labyrinth on his own to admit to everything since he had arrived in New York, despite him resigning, Alec retained the habit. Of course, the vitriol from before has been replaced, and is now more long suffering tolerance than anything. Nevertheless, Alec refuses to stop on the simple principle that he had hurt Magnus when he was at his lowest.

Magnus appreciates the sentiment, but it doesn’t stop him from admonishing his husband with a very stern “Alexander, he’s our guest. Promise you’ll be nice”

“I’m never nice, it’ll be suspicious if I’m nice to anyone but you” Alec points out and Magnus is quickly losing the fight to not smile, but with effort, he perseveres.

“Behave” he insists, even if he already knows that Alec will. He has been more than cordial even before the truce was called and despite his misgivings, Magnus knows Lorenzo has somewhat started to grow on Alec – unwillingly of course, but that’s where Simon and Clary had started, so there was hope.

“I don’t ask you to play nice to Jace” He argues instead, and Magnus is already turning back to his vanity with a shrug.

“Do you _want_ me to play nice with Jace?” He asks, making no attempt at all to hide his smirk when he catches Alec’s eyes in the mirror.

“No, it’s fun to see him looking constipated” Alec answers with all the love of an older sibling “My point was that I don’t spoil your fun”

“Alexander my dear, I don’t know how to break this to you, but you have quite the reputation as a spoil sport” Magnus informs, his tone solemn for all of three seconds before he catches Alec’s expression and starts giggling.

“I think you’re _very fun_ darling” He adds once the giggle fit that he will never admit to outside the confines of this room had passed, and Alec instantly mock gasps at him.

“You take that back right now!” he says, tone full of very convincing affront.

“But warlocks can’t lie Alexander” Magnus answers sincerely “You’re the life of a party”

“Yes, and the Lightwood with a reputation for having a stick up the ass is clearly Isabelle” Is Alec’s deadpan counter.

“I don’t know, it’s just honestly very insulting Alexander when people don’t know that the only things that have _ever been_ in your ass are things I put up there”

Magnus has absolutely no regret for the way his words send colour rushing up Alec’s face. It’s a credit to how far they’ve come (and how much debauchery Magnus had sweet talked Alec into on their honeymoon) that Alec does nothing more than flip him the bird, and roll over to bury his face in the pillows.

Magnus laughs, the happiness he is feeling almost impossible to contain.

Even a half hour later, when he’s dressed and ready and has coaxed a lethargic Alec out of their bed and into a suit, he’s still floating on air. There is no stress about the last minute preparations for the party, mostly because this dinner really is just exclusively for the people closest to them, but also because he’s far too distracted kissing his husband _in their home._

It was clearly awful decision making on their parts to host this the same day they had returned, and they definitely should have considered that their first night home as husbands would need more _private_ celebrations – but it was too late now.

It had been too late two minutes ago in fact, when Magnus had felt their guests pass through his wards, but Alec’s hands were on his ass and his tongue was licking into Alec’s mouth after his husband had graciously taste tested for him, and it was not his fault for being distracted.

“Seriously? You had three weeks to do nothing but this” Jace’s complaint is the first greeting they receive and where, once Alec might have drawn back to scowl at him at least, he now leisurely continues to kiss Magnus.

“Much as I enjoy this show, I would like to say hello to my brother-in-law whom I’ve missed very much” Izzy says, striding towards them, casual as you please, and it has Magnus finally drawing back to face their company.

The minute he detached himself from Alec, the younger Lightwood is hugging him and pressing a kiss hello to his cheek and Alec flops back on the couch watching the pair of them.

“Sure, don’t mind me, I’ll just wait here till you remember I exist” Alec says, Magnus’s answering laugh making it hard for him to remember the glare he was trying to maintain.

“I remember you left me with a mountain of paper work hermano, after extending your honeymoon _twice._ ” Izzy says blithely, from her place under Magnus’s arm.

“And of course, Magnus had nothing at all to do with why I was gone” Alec’s dry tone earned him no consideration from his sister.

“You’re just going to have to accept that Magnus is the favourite in the family.” Clary says, though she was still so short Alec had missed the point when she joined Izzy and Magnus’s hug fest.

“He is _not”_ Jace argues only to be instantly contradicted by Izzy’s “He definitely is” 

“I can’t argue with that” Alec shrugs, taking Izzy’s side simply because even the question of who his favourite was, was absolutely absurd.

“I suppose I’ll have to agree too” A new voice adds, the group turning around to see Maryse and Luke enter the loft hand in hand.

“All the votes are in, Magnus wins by – oh 4-1?” Clary asks, grinning brightly at Jace as she watches his confusion turn into sputtering.

“You can’t vote Magnus! I’m literally your boyfriend” He whines, but Clary stands unmoved.

“I suppose you and Alec have good taste if nothing else” Izzy chimes in, moving to stand beside her parabatai, even as Jace is betrayed by his own.

Alec, the traitor seems to have taken no offense at the statement. And is instead sappily smiling at Magnus as he says “The absolute best” 

“Yes Alexander, almost as good as mine” Magnus agrees, finally deigning to return to Alec’s side after having hugged their guests.

“See that Jace? That’s why he’s winning” Luke points out helpfully, making Jace groan at being ganged up on.

The situation doesn’t really improve for Jace when Simon and Maia join in for the fun, and Madzie happily votes Alec instead of Magnus, once she and Catarina join the party. Raphael of course claims to have no good options to choose from and by the time Lorenzo and Andrew, their final guests for the evening arrive, and they have all moved to the artfully arranged table, the entire room is buzzing with high spirits, ringing laughter and uninterrupted chatter.

In fact, it takes Alec more than a few minutes of clinking his glass to even manage to get the room to quieten and allow him to make his toast.

“I just wanted to say, congratulations Magnus. I know how much this city and it’s people mean to you, and I’m so glad Lorenzo could see it too.”

The words are simple and direct and yet, the clear pride in them has Magnus overwhelmed with emotion, the tears he was trying to blink back becoming a futile effort when Lorenzo raises his own glass and adds a simple “To the High Warlock of Brooklyn” that is instantly echoed by everyone else at the table.

Magnus allows himself to be kissed by Alexander, the sweet press of lips against his once again making the happiness he feels bubble up. By the time the two of them part, the conversation in the room has resumed once more and the food is being passed around the table again.

“So Magnus, how did you celebrate this the first time around?” Clary asks, drawing his attention away from his husband, and Magnus is instantly ready to launch into a very elaborate fib that includes several name drops, when Simon jumps in with his own question.

“When was the first time anyway? Like how long have you been the High Warlock?” That seems to make most people in the room pause and blink with the realisation that they _didn’t know._

Magnus personally prefers not to focus much attention to the initial circumstance of his posting, that sentiment only being exacerbated by the present company for multiple reasons. His eyes flit briefly to Lorenzo and the challenge he had made decades ago, to Maryse and Lucian and the part they’d inevitably played, to the other shadowhunters in the room, their runes a stark reminder of how he came to power here. However, the floodgates seem to have opened now and suddenly the questions are pouring in.

“How are High Warlocks selected by the way? I mean, I know it’s some sort of vote but who does the voting?” Maia asks

“And why Brooklyn? I have always wondered that. It’s the New York pack and the New York Institute and the New York Vampires, so what’s different with you?” Simon pipes up again “Or were you already living in Brooklyn?”

“That has to be just a title” Isabelle counters “We don’t really have any other High Warlocks listed for the other boroughs or – even the rest of the state? So it’s not just New York city”

“That’s true, our next closest High Warlock is in Jersey” Maryse agrees, the conversation continuing on without any input from Magnus.

“As for when you first took the title, it must have been around 25 years ago?” Luke’s approximation is pretty accurate, and it makes Simon whistle, clearly impressed. But Magnus is too busy avoiding Lorenzo’s stare to pay attention to it.

In fact, he is so focused on not meeting Lorenzo’s gaze that he misses it entirely when his fellow warlock chooses to answer with a simple “That would be right, then again, I’m sure at least some of you remember the first uprising”

Within moments, the room falls silent, all the warmth suddenly being leeched out and an uncomfortable quiet blankets the space in the mere seconds it takes Magnus to turn his full attention to Lorenzo. He isn’t precisely sure what he wants to say, the bitterness in Lorenzo’s tone is obvious and Magnus really would rather they didn’t do this now, least of all in the presence of their current audience – but the other warlock is still talking.

“As for why Brooklyn, well, proximity would be your answer. The New York Institute is the third largest in the world, so naturally if a war was coming, we had to fortify this city’s downworld – and who better to do it than the Clave’s least favourite warlock, Magnus Bane?”

Magnus almost winces at hearing his own words from 25 years ago being thrown back at him.

It had been a long week of endless debates amongst the council, a significant number of powerful warlocks having gathered at the Labyrinth to assess the threat of Valentine. New York especially had been a point of concern, it’s High Warlock was choosing to step down after almost 80 years, claiming he simply didn’t have what it took to see their people through yet another period of strife. 

They could hardly begrudge Ivan his decision, but the fact remained that the city did have one of the biggest downworld populations in the world and in natural response, the clave had one of its biggest institutes on the same shore – which meant the likeliness of it becoming a key battleground was unfortunately high.

Lorenzo had immediately made a bid for the role of course, eager as always to take on the Clave. And truth be told, the title was already his in all but name – being quite well known for his absolute lack of tolerance towards the Clave and their practices, had made him a popular choice.

However, Ivan himself disagreed, approaching Ragnor with concerns about Lorenzo being far too aggressive in his methods. The former High Warlock felt that New York, despite its heavy population, did not have what it would take to win a war. The local Vampires had suffered an unfortunate incident only recently and the clan was yet to recover, the rivalry between the Alpha’s of various wolf packs in the state made them unstable, and most warlocks living in the region were of the quiet sort – inviting battle with the nephilim would leave them with devastating losses.

The words of caution could not go unheeded, but they were also severely lacking in options. So much so, that when they tried to find someone who could boost their people’s morale, defend a vulnerable area, would be more powerful than Lorenzo in outright combat, and have the ability to win the trust of the council voting later that very day – the task had fallen to Magnus.

And sure he may have ended up throwing his name in the hat in the last minute with a rather dramatic speech, but that was less about his own love for theatrics. After all, he had needed to make an impression, and he had to do it in a way that would, without a doubt win him the votes he needed. He had clearly been more than successful in making it memorable though, if 25 years later, Lorenzo had not forgotten his words. Figures, the onetime Magnus would use his flair for the dramatic for something other than his own indulgence, and it would come back to bite him. Catarina seems to immediately recognise the old grudge as well, and at least she remains unimpressed. 

“Magnus kept our people safe” she says, tone filled with censure “And he kept the peace, just as he promised”

Lorenzo’s scoff is loud in the ensuing quiet, and abruptly Magnus remembers exactly why the two of them were not friends, despite centuries of fighting for the same cause.

“I thought we were past this, that our differences were being put aside?” He asks, keeping his tone neutral in hopes of somehow containing this again. However, Lorenzo only meets his eyes with the exact same stubborn glint that he held during their earliest interactions in the 19th century, and Magnus knows those hopes are in vain.

Nonetheless, he reclines back in his chair, unwilling to give Lorenzo the confrontation he wanted without making him work for it first. Its why he keeps his tone light and curious as he presses “Why step down at all if you do not agree with my policies still?” 

“Why? Do you want me to read you the list? You saved the life of the werewolf Alpha, the leader of the vampire clan is your son, and you are married to the Head of the Institute. No amount of professionalism from any party would offer our people the same support that would come with you holding the title. And I personally believe in putting their interests above something as _petty_ as a formal rank”

“Implying that I would?”

Lorenzo could see how the words grated at Bane’s nerves, his narrowing eyes giving it away despite his cool tone. He carefully concealed his satisfaction, entirely sure Bane recognised his own past dismissal for formal rank, an excuse the other warlock had used for centuries to avoid responsibility, only to snatch it out of Lorenzo’s hands on a mere impulse. 

“That is neither here, nor there.” Lorenzo dismisses “The truth is, I would have led the war against Valentine better than you, but you did always claim that peace brokering was your style”

“Oh really?” Magnus continues to affect lightness in tone. “And what, pray tell, would you have done better? Because last I checked your plan was an all out war with a sociopath”

Despite his best efforts, Lorenzo feels fresh anger stirring in his gut at the sheer hypocrisy. Magnus Bane had been no less eager for war. Lorenzo had been there for the bloodbath at the Brunei Institute that Bane had single handedly caused. The wards had been torn down as if they were paper. Demons summoned straight from the very heart of Edom had been unleashed directly upon an institute full of unsuspecting nephilim, until they were overrun, until there was nothing left of them but broken bodies and dimming seraph blades. Lorenzo and a few others meant to ensure no nephilim managed to flee the reckoning alive, had done nothing but watched, as Magnus then razed their building to the ground with hellfire, leaving behind only charred grounds come dawn. And yet, he had turned around and preached peace, claimed to be a proponent of calm resolution before the blood on his hands had even dried. The double standard was always what Bane was about.

“Your unwillingness to fight Valentine’s war the first time is what landed us with this one Bane, don’t you forget that” Lorenzo’s growl has Magnus straightening in his seat, his own words of response withheld only because Catarina beats him to it.

“If we had shown even the slightest willingness to fight, we all know the clave would have used the excuse to fully back the circle”

Lorenzo remains unmoved though, shrugging it off with a factual “The Clave was merely waiting for Valentine to weaken us first before cleaning house themselves and we all _knew that too_ ”

“And how were our chances better if we challenged them both at the same time?” Magnus demands, Lorenzo’s dismissal of the thin line he had to balance upon for years, sparking his own temper “As long as they were at least holding divided fronts, we had an advantage”

“Advantage? Really? And what exactly did you do with that advantage Bane?” The scorn dripping from his words in no way lessens the sharpness of the accusation he levelled “You knew Valentine wasn’t gone, and yet you sat on your hands for the last two decades”

“ _I sat on my hands?_ New York hasn’t let it’s guard down once in 20 years” Magnus could feel the tight leash of control he kept on his temper slipping, and with it the rise of tension in the air. He could tell even without looking that the arrested audience in the room were reacting to the dangerous tone of his voice, but he could not bother to spare any attention to them as he continues.

“Twenty years that I, by the way, not only spent reinforcing our wards, but also actively running interference, so no innocent person landed in the hands of the local institute considering it’s rather obvious affiliation to the Circle. Moreover I also had to work to keep Jocelyn Fairchild, the mortal cup, and Valentine’s daughter in my city and under my purview – because believe me, the minute she felt the lack of options, that woman would have gone running back to the clave with their precious cup, consequences be damned. And with that the only way we had to fight this war on our terms would have been lost. I have waited on this war 20 years, watching for the rumours of Valentine, watching if the Clave began to get antsy about the cup. Whereas the clan leader of the vampires was essentially absent, the wolves and their eternally short memories were being of no help as per usual, and the Seelies refused to show till the fight was at our doorstep, leaving this city to just _me_. Meanwhile, you have done what besides complain?”

By the time he was finished with his rant, he was breathing hard and too angry to notice the choked noise from Clary. Catarina however, was not only far too accustomed to heated shouting matches in the council, but had in fact witnessed several versions of this very same argument between Magnus and Lorenzo through the centuries, to be fazed by it. Instead, she took her time observing their company.

She spots Clary and Simon exchanging glances with Simon mouthing _20 years_ at the equally bewildered girl, Maryse Lightwood has her hand in Lucian’s, but otherwise seems to be avoiding meeting anyone’s glances with her head ducked down; while both of Alec’s siblings, as well as Lorenzo’s new boyfriend, all seem to be looking towards Alec for direction. Alec himself still had Madzie on his lap from when she had drifted there once she had finished her own dinner. He meets Catarina’s gaze steadily, expression carefully impassive, and only looks away at Lorenzo’s angry retort. 

“And after all that Bane, when war did arrive at your doorstep, you still refused to fight!” His tone changes quickly to one of disgust as he adds “Every time you hesitate to attack our enemies, it is the blood of our people that stains your hands”

Catarina doesn’t need to look towards her friend to know the accusation stings despite having no truth in it. Magnus felt unnecessarily guilty for the lives the Circle took and she would not stand for it, which leaves her to draw Lorenzo’s attention back to her with a very firm admonishment.

“Fighting a war is about more than just killing our enemies, the downworld of this city still stands because we chose to defend our own rather than –“

“You always were a pacifist Catarina” He brushes her off, focus still steadily on Magnus “But tell me Bane, you were more than willing to fight to the death once. Or are you going to claim to be filled with regret?

“I regret _nothing_.” Magnus practically snarls “Do not mistake my unwillingness to _start a war_ to mean I will hesitate to fight in one”

“Except you did, In fact, you backed away from a war that _you_ started” Lorenzo’s disdain barely registers to Magnus though, his confusion pushing its way past the former irritation.

“I – excuse me?”

“You chose to sign the accords instead of see the fight through” Lorenzo charges, and it makes Magnus want to sigh with utter exasperation – He should have known that was what the irksome bastard was talking about

“That particular war was started _by the clave_ ” He grits out through his teeth “They’d gone too far and I simply pushed back”

“Of course they went too far! They always have” Lorenzo agrees, it’s not like he had a problem with how it started, it was the ending he loathed “Which is _exactly why_ we should have _finished_ that fight back then”

“Finish it?” If Magnus didn’t have centuries of composure and too much dignity, he would be gaping at Lorenzo with his jaw hanging lose “There are almost 700 institutes Rey! And then all of Idris! By the time we decimated those and dismantled the Clave, how many of our people would have been left standing? We would have fought each other to extinction.”

“What? You realised that only _after_ we had burned the first several institutes down? If you were so unwilling to take that risk Bane then-” Lorenzo’s tirade had barely picked up steam but Magnus cuts him off. 

“I was angry! We were all angry. Should we have left a mass execution go unpunished?” He practically hisses. “You know as well as I do that our retaliation wasn’t planned. It was never meant to spin so far out of control; we didn’t enter it ready to fight a war”

“But it _was_ war and the clave was more than happy to fight it” Lorenzo’s words made Magnus want to punch him in the face, just like every other time he was reminded of just how arrogant Lorenzo Rey could be, and all because what, he was more inclined towards battle magic?

“Of course they were, they’re a warrior race! Our people are not” Magnus snaps, because despite the centuries, the fool never seemed to stop to realise that he – and unfortunately Magnus as well – were the minority with their magic having a predilection for combat. Most warlocks could not break through the innate nephilim resilience armed with brute force of power. Even Ragnor, powerful as he undoubtedly was, had to outwit the enemy and deflect, because his magical propensity lay elsewhere “They were helpless, scared – “

“They might have been scared, but they would have been willing to stand with us if we held our ground. They would have followed you into war if _you_ had been willing to lead!” Lorenzo is practically spitting with how enraged he is, and it is a close thing that Magnus has enough hold on his self control to not throw his hands up in the air.

“Lead them where? Into slaughter?” He demands, frustrated “The Clave didn’t bring the fight to you or me Rey! They killed hundreds of our most defenceless”

Not that the mighty Lorenzo Rey had ever deigned to pay attention to that, he was too happy hunting down shadowhunters, to ever help Magnus and the others. He never showed up to bury the dead, to relocate the displaced, to shelter and ward the weak, to break in and free the prisoners, to comfort and console the scared and the grieving. No, he simply never stopped to realise that while Magnus, Lorenzo, and a few others could have continued to fight the war for a decade if it came to that, their people simply did not have the same endurance. That was what made him sign the accords then, and it is what makes him stand by it now. 

“As good as vengeance feels, I’d rather keep our people safe, and as much as I hate it, the accords were the only way to make it stop”

“Maybe it was.” Lorenzo concedes, because he did understand they had not been prepared for a full out war, even without Bane pointing it out “Or maybe what it should have been, was a way to buy us time.”

To be forced to defend against a war that sparked unexpectedly and overnight was one thing, but to simply remain that way like Bane was choosing to? To wait until they were once again caught unprepared? That was foolishness. However, Magnus Bane insisted on hoping for the best without ever preparing for the worst, because what consideration did he really give to those lesser than him? He could go up against twenty shadowhunters at a moment’s notice and still walk away from that fight, almost no one else would. What their people needed was to be ready.

“We always knew to expect an uprising of some sort. We could have mobilized. At least with Valentine we could have done more and –“

Magic arced across the room, red and sparking off of Magnus, sudden and sharp until it choked Lorenzo into silence. Catarina finally leapt to her feet, her own hands glowing silver as she tried to placate her friend, even as Lorenzo struggled to break free. Magnus paid her no attention, gold-green cat eyes blazing as he glared at Lorenzo, even as he twisted his wrists to tighten the bonds of magic holding him still.

In all the years they had disagreed, the younger warlock had never seen Bane like this, standing tall and wrathful like a contemptuous God. Yet, when he spoke, his dulcet tones were blisteringly cold, a stark contradiction to the heat of his magic.

“Mobilized? You want our people to mobilize? Should we start teaching our children loyalty and obedience at the knee? Should we have them swear an oath, swear their very lives to our council when they come of age? Do you want to teach them to kill before you teach them to live and love? Tell me Lorenzo, would you send children out to fight our war, with nothing but a weapon in their hand and hate in their hearts? Do we strip them of identity and freedom so they’ll be mindless _hunters_ that slaughter anything that isn’t like them? Because that maybe the price the nephilim are willing to pay for their victories, but it is not and never will be _who we are”_

Lorenzo would be lying if he said he was not intimidated; for all that he thought Magnus Bane to be a soft hearted fool, he was aware of just how out matched he would be in a real fight against the older man. That would never mean, however, that Lorenzo would cower before him, and so he holds his head up high and keeps his voice steady.

“At least the clave _has_ victories! What do we have left when they hunt us like animals and kill us in our homes? What is freedom worth when it only gets us killed?”

“ _Everything._ It is worth _everything_. Isn’t that what you’re fighting for even now?” Bane counters, clearly having noticed Lorenzo’s not so subtle attempt at trying to loosen the magical rope around him by nudging at it with his own.

“For the love of Lilith! We’re fighting to live Bane!” He shouts, frustrated that such a simple concept always seems to elude the infuriating man, that he was too privileged to see that while he might be off fighting for freedom and regard, the rest of them just wanted to survive. They were not all afforded the luxury to rise hell itself to keep themselves alive.

The magical binding drops, suddenly and with no warning even as Bane says in his most controlled tone, “We deserve to choose how we live. I will not trade oppression from the other for enslavement by our own”

“Last I checked, the Clave is still in disagreement trying to choose if we even deserve to live. But I cannot stop you from being blind or idealistic” Lorenzo slips carefully out of his seat, putting himself back on eye level with Magnus. “It matters little now, since these shadowhunters at least aren’t breaking any plates. But war will come to us still”

“When it does Rey, we will fight to _defend_ our own. As we have always done, and our people will _endure_ , as we have always done” Magnus’s tone has gentled again “And perhaps this peace will last us mere months, or maybe it’ll be decades before we have to fight again, but Lorenzo, we need to learn to live through times of peace as much as we do through the wars. Or we won’t fight as hard for it the next time”

It was as close to a truce as Magnus was willing to take it, a flick of his wrist supplying Lorenzo’s empty hand with a drink, just to ensure the intention was not missed. It takes a moment for the sharp words to die on the other man’s tongue, his expression slowly masked away by a neat shutter of forced neutrality.

“To peace then” He says, downing the wine like it was a shot of cheap tequila, before stiffly replacing the glass on the table. His magic already ensures the portal was waiting behind him, when he turns to walk away from Magnus without another glance and leaving the room with a few seconds of deafening silence.

“I was rather beginning to worry that you two might start to get along” Catarina comments, once the last traces of the portal winks out of existence.

“I think Cat, that you should be rather proud of how well I handled that” The response rolls naturally off Magnus’s tongue, his hands absently reaching for the silver cuffs on his ear as he tries not to feel embarrassed that he had, in his anger, accidentally pushed back on her magic as well.

“Well, the building is still standing, neither of you gave grave offense you’d need to pay reparations for, and there was no laundry list of grievances being unloaded for hours. So I suppose you did do quite well” Cat smiles brightly, and Magnus breathes easier when he meets her gaze and finds no reproval.

“I personally still think warlocks are unnecessarily dramatic” Raphael decides, nonchalant as ever as he casually sips at his own dinner. Magnus would not be surprised if it’s all Raphael had done even during the rather intense debate that had just enfolded around him. “Besides Cat, if Magnus was going to choose to set old differences aside, surely he would begin with Maciej”

“Raphael Santiago, you will not blaspheme under my roof” Magnus decries, appalled at the nerve it took to even utter such to his face, while Catarina trills with happy laughter at his side. When he shoots her a betrayed look, she immediately schools her features, though it does nothing to hide the gleam in her eyes.

“Well, he did marry a Lightwood, so I think we might yet get there this century” She says, even winning herself a real smile from their favourite scowling vampire. 

“And now I regret trading a quiet evening with my husband in favour of entertaining you heathens” Magnus grouses, glancing towards said husband to see him watching their banter with a smile.

“Good to know I can finally leave” Raphael throws back, already on his feet and showing the same eagerness to leave this party, as he did with every single one Magnus ever forced him to attend.

“Oh, is – are we all supposed to leave now?” Simon asks, standing beside Maia who had clearly pulled him up, looking between Magnus and the door that Raphael had just walked out of, without anything but a farewell nod for Catarina.

It distracts Magnus from having the time to despair the lack of manners at least, because the question has Clary rising to her feet with all the other Shadowhunters following suit; Alec the sole exception as he remains where he is with Madzie still on his lap. Whatever Alec is whispering to her isn’t really audible, so he shifts his focus to the others and their obvious unease. Maryse and Lucian are standing farthest, probably lingering still only because they don’t quite know if they should say goodbye. The younger bunch seems equally lost, even if not quite as desperate to get out. The one that Magnus does take pity on however is Andrew.

“Sorry about running your boyfriend off, would you like a portal to his place?” Magnus offers, turning his attention to the man hovering by himself at the side.

Andrew’s surprise at suddenly being addressed however, is quickly replaced by hesitation “I don’t – uh – I’m not sure he’ll want to see me really – after all that?”

He phrases it as a question, clearly clueless on what he should do, but also not seeming opposed to the idea of visiting Lorenzo himself. Moreover, if it was only being unsure of his welcome that was holding him back, well Magnus could certainly help with that. After all, Alec had spent many awkward evenings lingering just like this after difficult conversations and in all those times, one thing Magnus had needed was Alexander’s company.

“I have known Lorenzo long enough to know how far his heart has hardened from too long on the front lines. Being reminded that the world can surprise you sometimes will do him a lot of good. It certainly did for me” Magnus assures kindly, the portal opening right beside the blonde shadowhunter.

“Thank you Magnus” Andrew’s response is sincere as always, even as he adds “You two disagree on a lot, obviously. But this is still kind of you”

“Oh,no. I’m just hoping that if you manage to take down some of those walls, it will make him a little tolerable”

He doesn’t really think he landed on convincing, or even anywhere close based on the way Andrew throws a glance towards Alec over Magnus’s shoulder, and then leaves with nothing more than a smile. However, he certainly does not want to see the expression on his husband’s face, or have to admit that he doesn’t really hate Lorenzo Rey. They will never be friends, but he had fought beside the man too many times to count him as anything but an ally.

“A portal to the institute, as well?” He asks, turning instead towards the rest of his guests. Lucian’s immediate and emphatic ‘yes’ however, gets drowned out by Clary.

“I didn’t know you hated shadowhunters so much” She says, looking at him with confusion written all over her face, even as the rest of the group freeze.

Magnus supposes he should not be too surprised, if anyone was going to break through the stifling discomfort and simply confront the issue head on, it was always going to be biscuit. That, of course did not mean he owed it to them to make this conversation any easier, and he simply wasn’t going to either.

“No?” He hums, inquisitive “I would have assumed that was obvious”

“You are literally _married_ to a shadowhunter Magnus” Jace points out, making Magnus roll his eyes and stroll closer towards his Alexander, the drink from Lorenzo’s toast still dangling from between his fingertips

“I hadn’t noticed” He throws back coolly, never one to miss a chance to make blondie scowl.

“What we’re trying to say is, we’re friends.” Isabelle says and one look at her face makes him soften some more. For all that, Alexander and Isabelle were different from each other, they both had eyes that betrayed their feelings and Magnus was well versed in reading hidden insecurity in those honest eyes.

“Of course we are.” He assures, trying not to smile at the way her shoulders loosen just the slightest fraction “Who I choose to care for in my personal life my dear, has nothing at all to do with my views on the Clave”

“But Valentine is _dead,_ you said yourself that we have peace now. And you don’t really believe there’ll be another war right? It’s not all going to happen again. We won Magnus.” Clary appeals, earnest and wide eyed and urging him to believe her.

It makes Magnus pity the girl, the sweet summer child that she is. For all her entanglement in the shadow world, she is still in many ways just a mundane art student – war is still a concept of just victory and defeat from books of history or fiction.

Not that any of the other nephilim, Alexander included, understood quite how endless something like war really was. They might all be soldiers, but they didn’t quite grasp that battle happened all the time and all around the world, it was only ever the scale that made a difference. Someone was being denied their rights for a veritable number of reasons, someone else was unhappy with their slice of pie and wanted more, and on and on, it always went. Centuries did not change how things worked, only who it worked for, who it worked against, and how far the consequences rippled out.

“Valentine _is_ dead Clarissa. So now, we only have the other hundreds of years of discrimination and outright massacres from the Clave to contend with. Quite the lovely victory” He knows his tone has become bitter, and it is only Alec’s gentle brush of fingers against his thigh that makes him summon up even the most plastic of smiles.

“You don’t think things will get better? That you know, things can be good between the shadowhunters and the downworld?” Simon asks, a nervous buzz about him making Magnus want to pity him as well. More so, because his immortality will grant him many more years to learn the hard lessons of the world

“Two steps forward, one step back doesn’t mean there’s no progress.” He tries to offer. It isn’t much but it is all he can do. “That said, Warlocks have long memories Simon”

He keeps his tone appropriately grave enough for the poor boy to not even react at being called the right name, when he adds “Nothing has been forgiven and nothing has been forgotten”

“If you hate the nephilim so much, why save Alicante?” Jace asks, the frown on his face for once proving that he’s really being serious. But the Herondale really did know precisely how to put his foot in his mouth.

“I do not condone genocide shadowhunter, I will leave that to your people” Magnus snaps back, irritation flaring up “On the other hand, will I open those very same rifts again in your city of glass, if the Clave chooses to stand against my people once again? Yes. Without regret”

“We’re not – we don’t want to be your enemy Magnus” Isabelle words are unhappy but does not spare her the ire from the werewolf present.

“But _the Clave_ doesn’t want to be our friend either Lightwood” Maia counters, her resentment towards the institution of shadowhunters no less of a secret than Magnus’s own.

“The Clave is changing though” Clary insists, and it makes Magnus want to sigh at her desperation to believe that the darkness was truly behind her. 

“And you don’t just – what you said Magnus, you not only hate what shadowhunters _do_ , you hate what we _are_ ” Jace adds, and Magnus can’t quite help the laugh that escapes him.

“Hating what someone is, instead of what they do, is exactly what prejudice is” He points out “People hate me for the blood in my veins, yes. But also for the colour of my skin and the person in my bed. All of which are a part of who I am”

He sees Jace’s eyes widen for a moment, before it morphs again into a frown and he immediately defends with a straightforward “You don’t deserve any of it”

The words serve to remind Magnus exactly why it was this one ,that shared a soul with Alec. After all, his husband’s dear parabatai might sometimes need the obvious pointed out to him, but his heart was always in the right place and his defense of the people he loved was unfailingly fierce.

“Thank you Jace. But, for the record, I do not hate the nephilim for who they are. I hate that your people don’t know the value of a life. You’re all eager to fall on the sword and martyr yourself in the name of a greater cause, rushing headfirst into battle without care that it might be your last one. And before you say it, Alexander has already talked about soldiers being unable to afford fear in battle, and that death will only come that much faster otherwise. I just personally do not subscribe to that. If you cannot value your own people and treat them like nothing more than cannon fodder, if your own motto is _shadowhunters die young_ like it’s something that’s supposed to make lives made disposable okay, then how will you learn to value the lives of the mundanes you’re sworn to protect, let alone the downworlders?”

“That’s not fair Magnus, we hunt the demons to make sure innocents don’t die” Isabelle argues, and he can tell she believes it too. Her brother had made a similar case once.

“Maybe it isn’t fair. But I choose to believe all life is precious and that all lives are meant to be enjoyed, celebrated and just simply _lived._ Not bound in service to an entity before you’re old enough to make that choice”

The girl blinks at him, confused like the idea of consent and choice had never occurred to her before. But knowing the clave, Magnus supposes it probably hadn’t. To Simon however, the realisation is apparently that much more awful for hitting him out of the blue, and it sends him spinning straight into a crisis.

“Oh my god, they’re – wait they’re like child soldiers. Their parents just had them indoctrinated at birth. No wait, their parents were also indoctrinated at birth? How does that happen to a whole race? Is this not some kind of abuse? Are all nephilim sworn to the Clave? Or like can they just, you know say no thanks and walk away and choose to be a chef? Do they go rogue at all?”

His babbling amuses Magnus as always, but Alexander’s patience has clearly reached its limit.

“Magnus just open the portal” He says, voice pitched low enough to not wake a sleeping Madzie in his arms but audible enough to have everyone’s attention turn to him.

“Well we certainly know when we’re not wanted Lightwood” Maia smirks, her hands reaching out to grab Simon’s and tug at him.

“It’s Lightwood-Bane, and you’re the only one that does Roberts” Alec hits back, glancing at his siblings rather pointedly.

Magnus sees Isabelle and Jace begin to protest, but jumps in before they can manage a word edgewise “All Alexander was trying to say is that it is getting quite late, and there is a sleeping child. Surely we can pick this up another time?”

The portal he opens behind them is definitive enough indication of their over stayed welcome, that most of them willingly walk towards it with nothing more than a chorus of grumbled good night’s. To Magnus’s surprise however, the last to leave were the ones that had made the most effort to remain invisible after the night had gotten derailed.

He sees Maryse clutching at Luke’s hand, the tension pouring off her in waves causes Magnus himself to stand a little taller. It’s clear she has something to say, but her mouth keeps snapping shut without any words falling out of them and Luke still seems to be avoiding his gaze entirely. Before Magnus can decide what exactly he can do to move this along, he is, once again rescued by his gift of a husband.

“We can get dinner some other time, enough has been said tonight mom” He decides, voice firm and leaving no room for argument. Magnus for his part is just grateful for how quickly the couple nod in agreement, bid them goodnight and take their leave.

“I can take Madzie to the guest room, if you want to stay for another drink Cat” Alexander is offering before Magnus can even turnaround from the portal he had just closed.

“Unfortunately, I have an early shift tomorrow” Cat sounds warm as she moves towards Alec to take her sleeping daughter from his arms. The little warlock bundle clinging to Alec’s shirt manoeuvred carefully into letting go.

“I told her adults liked to play out things they saw on that mundane animal channel sometimes. And that obviously Magnus and Lorenzo didn’t pick cool things. Oh and since going on an adventure in the sea is cooler than fighting and fishes are more colourful than boring lions, we might be going swimming soon” 

Alec’s explanation is convoluted at best and frankly ridiculous enough that it takes Magnus and Catarina a minute to even try and parse through the whole thing.

“I think we can manage that, thank you Alec” Cat agrees, giving up on that effort to dissect the sentence and instead settling for fondness. As for Magnus, it’s not really like he needs an excuse to be endeared towards Alexander.

“Tell sweet pea we’ll see her soon” Magnus promises, leaning forward to brush some hair off Madzie’s face and then press swift kisses on the cheek to both mother and daughter, before stepping back and into Alec’s arms.

Catarina is still smiling as yet another portal sparks to life in the room and right as she is about to step through, she takes an extra second to simply meet Magnus’s gaze.

“Hope is not the worst thing to have in the world old friend” She tells him before disappearing back to her own home and leaving Magnus and Alec finally alone in theirs.

There’s something that loosens in both of them, once the world outside has been pushed away again. Magnus practically feels himself melting against the familiar line of his husband at his back, pressed close and warm, with arms wrapped securely around him, as he peppers light kisses along his shoulder.

“We should have just extended our honeymoon” Alexander says, directly into his ear and Magnus delights in the words and the feeling both.

“Yes, and we should not have invited Lorenzo, traditions be damned” Magnus mumbles back.

“For the record, I was on my best behaviour with him” Alec states, choosing that moment to turn Magnus around in his arms.

“Indeed you were” Magnus agrees, rewarding him with a kiss for the feat, only to have Alexander stealing a few more in quick succession. “I didn’t quite expect this turn of events I’ll admit”

“You didn’t expect me to be trying to strip you the moment I had you to myself again?” Alec questions, pausing his efforts at doing exactly that, somehow already having worked his hands under Magnus’s shirt.

Magnus shoots him an unimpressed look, but Alexander only rolls his eyes “Magnus, I meant it when I said enough has been said tonight”

“Really? Because you barely said a word” He cannot help but point out, looking curiously at his husband. Alexander might not be verbose, but he was plenty opinionated.

“You were handling it” Alec shrugs, like it really was that simple.

Then again, it probably was. Between the two of them, they have had plenty of conversation about race, the actions of the Clave, their actions as leaders, about how to move forward and most importantly, what those tensions meant to their relationship. It had been the one good thing to come out of the soul sword debacle. So none of this was really new to Alec at all, and yet Magnus can’t help but prod a little.

“Nothing to add?”

“What can I say that I haven’t said before Magnus?” Alec asks, hands neatly slipping out from under Magnus’s shirt and instead taking hold of his hands, as he sincerely says “The mistakes of my people are unforgivable and you deserve reparations, but right now the Clave is barely willing to offer an apology. I will use my not inconsiderable power to the best of my abilities to push to change that. There is nothing I want more Magnus, than to make this world a better place for you, not only because I love you, but because you deserve it, and your people deserve it and as shadowhunters we owe it to all of you to fix the problems our people created”

That wasn’t at all what Magnus had meant, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the words. And he can’t quite help but raise their interwoven fingers to his lips to press a kiss against Alec’s wedding ring.

“I know Alexander, I meant about Lorenzo and your siblings” He corrects.

“Oh. Well, Lorenzo is a dick” Alec says with a quick grin, only to continue more seriously “I understand different leadership styles I guess, but I hadn’t known that’s why you two disagreed so much”

Magnus really has nothing he can say to that and simply waits for Alec to continue to the part that did matter more. And Alec probably sensed as much because he meets Magnus’s gaze with an open look, inviting him to see the honesty in his sentiment.

“I think it’s a good thing that happened. More shadowhunters need to start having uncomfortable conversations if we ever really want to see change and today set that ball rolling for my family at least”

“Now we just need to keep having them” Magnus agrees, despite not really looking forward to more of these.

“ _We_ need to have it Magnus, as shadowhunters. You don’t owe it to us to make yourself uncomfortable talking about experiences that have hurt you. Your histories are open to us, my people can put in the effort to educate ourselves” Alec counters sternly, and Magnus winces at knowing he can’t really hide the toll this evening took on him – not from his husband.

“When did you become so very wise my dear?” He asks, the words genuinely proud despite their teasing edge.

“Perks of marrying a 2000 year old warlock” Alec responds, and while it takes a moment to register with Magnus, it certainly leaves him to splutter in shock.

“I’m – what - 2000?” He is horrified at the very idea only to have Alexander doubling over in laughter in front of him.

“By the Angel Magnus, your face” Alec manages between wheezes, and it only takes Magnus a little longer before he too dissolves into laughter, the last vestiges of the days strain draining away from him.

After all, even if there was a lot wrong with the world, there were some good things too and that made all the difference.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I tried my best to be Lorenzo friendly despite the obvious bias towards Magnus and hopefully that shows...? 
> 
> Anyway, kudos and comments really make my day and I'd love to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. xx


End file.
